


"Want you to know, that should I go, I always loved you"

by Elizabeth1985



Series: Cockles [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, Cockles Week, Kissing, M/M, Public Display of Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1414570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth1985/pseuds/Elizabeth1985
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the verge of breaking up, Jensen ends up singing a song on stage and finds himself overcome at the concept of losing Misha. </p><p>This is my little contribution to Cockles Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Want you to know, that should I go, I always loved you"

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from Sirens by Pearl Jam. 
> 
> PLEASE PLAY "SIRENS' BY PEARL JAM WHILE READING THIS FIC. SET IT ON REPEAT JUST IN CASE. 
> 
> I am not normally an RPF person but with these two I have a hard time not seeing them as more than friends.

Faking a smile was beginning to wear thin. This convention was testing his reserves of patience and he didn’t want the fans to see how upset he really was.

Things with Misha had not been going well. The strain of their lives was becoming too much to carry on what they had. They both knew it was getting to be a make or break situation. They either needed to out their relationship so it would be easier, or give up on it entirely. They both knew it. They never came right out and said it, but the recent distance between them spoke volumes that words didn’t need to.

He dragged himself back into the present and shook his head to try and remember what a fan asked.

“Sing a song!” _Oh, right._ He’d brought his guitar. In hindsight it was a terrible plan. Especially with Misha here. It seemed a very personal thing sometimes, to sing a song with him right there.

Jensen smiled and laughed, as was expected. Misha doing the same, encouraging him to play. Fuck, it was all so fake right now and he hated it. He wondered if Misha could see how close to breaking he was.

“Any requests?” He asked into the mic, hoping that if he didn’t have to choose the song it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Sirens!” Someone yelled. “The Weight!” Another fan cried out. A few other requests were shot out, but he had recently learned Sirens by Pearl Jam and decided to go with that option. He should have thought it through, but he didn’t.

He smiled indulgently at the crowd and picked up his guitar. His chair was already partly turned in towards Misha, who sat three feet away, turned in towards him as well. Had they done that on purpose? Striving to be closer while they simultaneously grew apart?

The fans were cheering and screaming and he tried to focus on the guitar and remember the notes and the words that went along with the song.

He was nervous, the turning of his stomach that always came when he was about to do something that would draw everyone’s eyes to him. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it used to be. He had Misha to thank for that. For slowly changing him, making him more comfortable with himself.

He stretched his first, second, and third fingers into the C-chord and began.

He hoped his voice wouldn’t crack.

“Hear the sirens….” Switching to A-minor. “Hear the sirens…”

He chanced to look at Misha as he played and found Misha struggling between keeping his focus on the crowd and switching back to Jensen.

“I hear the sirens… more and more in this here town…” The slow tune and words lifted something in him, letting previously locked-down emotions leak out. He fumbled with the G-chord at the switch but no one seemed to notice.

“… me catch my breath to breathe and reach across the bed…. Just to know we’re safe I am a grateful man.” His eyes found Misha’s, staring straight at him and his entire body tensed with the hurt of what he felt coming.

“Ooohh.. have to take your hand, and feel your breath, for fear this someday will be over…” He saw Misha swallow, his face becoming telling and serious.

“I pull you close, so much to lose… knowing that nothing lasts forever…” He didn’t know if he could even make it through the song. It felt like they were breaking up, right here and now on the fucking stage.

“Hear the sirens…covering distance in the night.”

“The sound, echoing closer… will they come for me next time.” An image of them together in the hospital the night Rob had been rushed in flashed through his mind. He choked back the lump in his throat and tightened down his feelings so he could finish this without losing control. Misha hadn’t bothered turning back to the crowd.

Neither had he.

“Ooh… it’s a fragile thing, this life we lead.  If I think too much I can get over—whelmed… by the grace… by which we live our lives… with death over our shoulders…” Jensen didn’t care what it looked like anymore. He couldn’t look away from the man in front of him. He felt himself tearing apart.

“Want you to know… that should I go, I always loved you… held you high above, true.” His hands slipped during the solo, between C and A-minor… it was a wonder he could think enough to play. His heart pounded with a feeling close to death and he wanted the song to be over already. It was the worst song to pick, or maybe it only felt that way. Maybe it didn’t matter the song.

He repeated the chorus again before reaching the end of the song, “I study your face, the fear goes away….  The fear goes away… “

Moving to G, and repeating the words nearly a whisper…  He’d realized the room was quiet as the notes drifting silent at the end.

They didn’t turn away from each other.  

He wasn’t thinking as he placed the guitar down beside him. He couldn’t take the pain of it. There was a bruise over his heart that he couldn’t live with a moment longer, he refused to let it be this way. It wasn’t right.

Jensen stood up, feeling as though he were outside of his body, looking down at the scene from somewhere else. Misha blinked back the subtle reflection of tears in his eyes and Jensen walked the few feet between them. He saw the spark of realization dawn over those crisp blue eyes, but he didn’t stop his forward progress.

He didn’t notice anything to his left. He could barely hear anything more than the sound of his own breath and his heart thundering in his ears.

Jensen reached Misha, who looked up at him, silently asking what the hell he was doing.

“Fuck it.” He said weightily, not with careless aloofness that the sentiment was normally said with.

His hands went to Misha’s face, holding him still and he leaned down and kissed him. Needed to kiss him to show him that this was how it should be. Not being together simply wasn’t an option.

Misha responded after only a seconds hesitation and all of the pain and uncertainty over the last few months exploded into fire and need. They kissed desperately, as though they hadn’t seen each other in years. Jensen needed to be closer and pulled Misha out of the chair and into his chest, holding him tight. They kissed in hard presses of lips until Jensen stopped the kiss only to drop his face into the space of Misha’s neck, so warm. He let the embrace warm the cold dread that he had started the panel with.

“I’m soo sorry…” he whispered and he felt Misha shudder in his arms. “I love you…” He squeezed tighter. “I can’t lose you.”

Misha sniffed into his collar and whispered back just as urgently…”Thank god… I love you too… fuck I love you so much.”

With the feeling of relief spreading through him, he was reminded that they were not alone. So far from alone in fact that he was going to freak out any minute. Really not how this should have happened. The fear of losing Misha had overcome his better judgment.

They parted semi-awkwardly, Misha raised the mic to his mouth, his familiar, and fucking breathtaking, wicked grin displayed front and center, and he spoke out to the crowd while facing Jensen, “you are in soooo much trouble.” He teased and the crowd pretty much went nuts.

Like really fucking nuts. And then Jensen cried.

He tried not to. He really did, but fuck it was too much. He turned away, not wanting anyone to see. But Misha did, and moved to block the space between them, wrapping an arm around Jensen’s back, leaning into his ear. “It’s okay….” He said softly, kissing his cheek. “Everything will be okay.”

“Yeah.” Jensen replied though he didn’t really believe it.  He wasn’t worried about their individual families – they’d long ago gotten past that; he was worried about the rest of the world. He was worried about the myriad of people at work who didn’t know. However, this wasn’t why he’d become unable to control himself, it was simply because he was overjoyed that he wasn’t losing Misha.

When he’d gotten control over his errant emotions, he spun back around and smiled. A real smile – not the fake-ass one he’d been sporting the rest of the weekend, but the one that said how truly happy he was that he wasn’t losing one of the best things in his life.

He took Misha’s mic and brought it up to his mouth and looked pointedly out into the crowd, he cleared his throat, “So… uhh… any questions?” He asked casually, while smiling like a freak, unable to contain his happiness for anything.

Misha slapped his ass and took the mic back. “Is it really so surprising?” Misha said dryly, looking at the fans up through his lashes with his head tipped down.

The crowd was mostly still screaming; some hands moving up and down as the body they were attached to jumped into the air hoping to be seen.

One particularly loud girl screamed, “ _I knew it!!!”_ And both him and Misha laughed while shaking their heads.

He fucking couldn’t stop smiling and thought, well that’s that. Let the chips fall where they may. Instead of answering any questions yet – which he was totally limiting to like ONE—he grabbed Misha by the hem of his shirt and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

Misha wrapped his hand over Jensen’s on top of the mic and pulled it to his mouth. He turned to the crowd, “Just kidding!” He said and then more seriously added, “no actually this is totally real.” And then left his mouth hanging open as he decided what else to say, Jensen was fine to let him take control of the moment, “Ahhh… soo… I don’t know about you guys, but I’d say this has been _my_ favourite convention.”

Misha shrugged his shoulders and smiled at Jensen. “Of course, I’m probably biased.” He added.

Jensen pulled the mic back, “One question. That’s it… I’m not trying to be a dick, but I can’t… one question.” He said steeling himself for god-only-knows what.

Misha pointed to someone in the center who immediately stood up near the mic stand set up already.

“I don’t have a question,” the young woman said seriously and for a second Jensen was terrified she was going to regale them with hatred for probably a number of reasons and he didn’t think he had enough in him to brace himself against it. What she did say surprised him. It gave him something unexpected and literally made his day.

“Congratulations,” she said. “It’s not our place to question your personal life. I’m going to take a leap here and say I speak for everyone in this room and say that we are truly happy for you and wish you both nothing but happiness and freedom from douchebags and assholes.” She concluded with a  formality that didn’t jive with the term douchebags but he liked it. In fact, he loved it.

“You’re awesome.” He said to her.

Misha yanked the mic back, both of their hands still holding it between them. “Umm, if the cats out of the bag, are you all opposed to Jensen and I spending the entire hour making out because to be honest it’s been a while!” He said jokingly but Jensen could feel the true ping of his words and couldn’t wait to get back to his room.

He didn’t know what would come of his thoughtless actions, at the moment he didn’t care. He smiled the rest of the hour and had one of the best conventions he could ever remember having.  Of course, being able to kiss and touch Misha probably had a lot to do with that. Everything was good. Everything was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Love makes me happy.


End file.
